


The Press of Your Skin

by Selcier



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Day 6: Wait for Me, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Soft core smut, look I wrote something happy!, obikinweek17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 10:32:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11576277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selcier/pseuds/Selcier
Summary: Anakin is tired enough for only a taste.





	The Press of Your Skin

The only light in the dim room filters in from the passing speeders outside when Obi-wan and Anakin finally stumble in. Anakin collapses first on the bed, his limbs spread wide across the thick blanket and his face buried into the soft mattress. Obi-wan pulls his boots off by the door between slumping down on the edge of the bed.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you so frustrated at a Seneta event, Anakin,” Obi-wan says, massaging his knees. “Normally you seem to enjoy the drinking and dancing.”

Anakin mumbles into the blanket, pulling his arms underneath his body and attempting to toe off his own boots.

Obi-wan takes pity on him and tugs them off, dropping them on the floor in a pile.

“That Senator from Bespin asked me to dance six times, Master. And she held onto my shoulders so tight that I thought she’d snap my collar bones.” He rolls over onto his back, making more room on the bed before he sits up.

Obi-wan fiddles with his lightsaber clasp before abandoning it too to the floor. “Be thankful you were assigned to the balcony. I heard Master Windu distinctly say that- Anakin, oh!”

Anakin chuckles, but doesn’t stop his efforts to loosen Obi-wan spine. He rubs his hands down and over the man’s ribs, pushing and kneading with increased pressure. Obi-wan whines under his attention; his back melting forward so he can rest his elbows on his knees.

“You always were one for creature comforts, Master,” he says. He scoots closer; his forehead leaning against the top of Obi-wan’s spine as he works. He tugs on Obi-wan’s robes, urging him to slide back and against his chest. “And I alway like watching you enjoy yourself.”

Obi-wan tips backwards, his back settling in between Anakin’s legs. He sighs, a low sound of pleasure that joins his thoughts in the Force.

Anakin focuses his attentions on the top of Obi-wan’s thighs; smoothing his hands over the tense muscles. He slides his palms along the inside of his Master’s knees and up the outside of his legs before dipping down again over his soft sex.

“Oh,” Obi-wan moans again. “Anakin, I wasn’t-”

“You’re not that old, Obi-wan, just relax.”

He pulls at the lacings over Obi-wan leggings and tugs them open enough to pull out his hardening penis. It’s small still, and pleasantly plump in Anakin’s leather hand. “I just want to watch, Master.” The Force makes locating the tube of beard oil in the fresher an easy flick of his wrist.

Obi-wan twists his head with a happy sigh to press his face and his lips into Anakin’s neck. He’s pliant under Anakin’s hands, his body arching and warm as Anakin strokes him. His strong hands grip Anakin’s knees to steady his languid body as he flexes against Anakin’s movements.

They’re quiet, the darkness of the room keeping their passion to a steady hum of pleasure under their skin. Obi-wan whispers and moans with heady gasps at the slick scrape of Anakin’s rough palms.

But Anakin can feel the mounting pressure of his arousal fill the Force with a thousand points of light when Obi-wan looks down to watch. The older man’s own hands come up to join Anakin’s as he bites his lip.

Anakin presses his nose to Obi-wan’s ear, breathing in the deep scent of his sweat. “You’re not going to wait for me, old man?”

“I will do no such thing,” Obi-wan gasps, his fingers tugging at his heavy sack and skimming over Anakin’s grip. “Not when I’m so -ah Anakin,” he says, tipping his head back to lay on Anakin’s shoulder and his eyes fluttering. “Force, please- I’m going to-”

Anakin smiles into Obi-wan’s mussed hair as he watches the Jedi come undone in his arms with a low moan and a few graceless jerks of his hips. His back arches, straining, for a moment before he falls back against Anakin’s chest; damp with sweat and heavy with satisfaction.

Obi-wan’s contented pleasure hangs in the Force as Anakin breathes with him. Their chests rise and fall in union as Obi-wan’s calm bleeds through into Anakin’s mind.

He kisses Obi-wan’s neck, his lips pressing against the salty skin as he closes his eyes. His shoulders still ache from the Senator’s bruising grip but he can’t seem to care any longer.

Obi-wan manages to turn in the circle of Anakin’s arms; the soiled front of his robes smearing across Anakin’s own. Their hands are both covered in the sticky mess so Anakin unclips his utility belt and uses his obi to clean in between ther fingers before he tosses it to the floor.

He pulls Obi-wan closer to him as his Master slides his hands under Anakin’s loosened robes and over his waist.

Obi-wan hums, his contentment like a stream of trickling water in the Force. “Your room is down the hall but I’d much prefer to return the sentiment tomorrow morning without secretly stealing across the Temple if I can.”

Anakin sucks on Obi-wan’s bearded jaw as Obi-wan knuckles traces over his stomach. “Is this you asking me to stay the night?”

Obi-wan nudges at Anakin’s chin with his nose and their lips meet in a wet and slow kiss. Anakin savors the languid taste of the other man as he dips his tongue in and out of his warm mouth. He holds Obi-wan around his hips, his thumbs pressing on his sharp bones. Obi-wan’s softened penis brushes up against his stomach. Its still red and messy, his balls half spilling out of his pants.

“I’m tired from dancing,” Anakin murmurs into Obi-wan’s cheek. He presses a few more kisses down the white length of Obi-wan’s neck. “Can I hold you tonight?”

Chuckling, Obi-wan smoothes his hands over Anakin’s lapels and pushes his outer robes off. “As long as you don’t push me off,” he says, a lazy smile on his face.

Anakin watches as Obi-wan unclasps his own utility belt to drop it on the floor. They help each other pull open knots and clasps that hold together their inner robes and under clothes before smoothing their hands over newly exposed skin.

When Obi-wan is fully naked underneath him, Anakin can’t help but tip his legs back to peer and prod at the tight pucker of his anus. He leans in for a quick taste, circling the tip of his tongue around the muscle.

Obi-wan grabs a fistfull of Anakin’s curls and his half hard again when Anakin looks up at him from the end of the bed. “I thought you said you were tired, my dear padawan,” he says, his voice rough again.

His nipples are like small pebbles on his chest and Anakin uses the flat of his tongue to scrape a wide wet stripe across one.

“I am. Just getting a taste before tomorrow. I want good dreams tonight.”

Obi-wan pushes him off with a laugh and pulls the blanket up over them. “Well you won’t be doing much sleeping if you keep testing my endurance.”

He tucks himself in at Anakin’s side, the long length of him hard against Anakin’s hip. Anakin sighs in contentment, his eyes drooping, as Obi-wan explores the dips and ridges of Anakin’s body with the tips of his fingers and back of his knuckles. He lets his simple feelings bloom in the Force for Obi-wan to have; his thoughts free from the cage of his mind.

“Good night, Master,” he murmurs.  
“Good night, Anakin.”

**Author's Note:**

> Day 5 of Obikin Week 2017 "Wait for me"
> 
> Guys. I wrote something happy. 
> 
> As always, comments and constructive feedback are always appreciated!
> 
> selcier.tumblr.com


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